CHAPTER 2

CELINE'S POV

In that sterile hospital room, I forced a smile on my face. I had made my vow—no matter what, I'll stand by him.

I didn't let his confinement to the wheelchair define my love for him.

This is the time I need to prove to everyone that my love for him was beyond money and looks.

Unlike the expensive, elaborate wedding we planned to have, we ended up having a quiet but haunting ceremony.

No fairy lights, no music. Just me and a man in a wheelchair with haunted eyes, alongside some guests who had come to support us as witnesses.

When the priest asked us to come forward for the exchange of rings, my father stood stiffly behind me with a silent, yet disapproving look.

I saw my mother dab her eyes, but I can't tell if it was from the sight of pity or disapproval. But I don't care what anyone would say or think; it's my life, and I've decided who to spend the rest of it with.

When the priest asked, "Celine Bentley, do you take this man as your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health?" I felt a sharp stroke of pain in my heart, as if being stabbed by a knife, and tears began to roll down my eyes.

"Do you think Adrian would have still married you if the reverse was the case?" A strong voice echoed loudly in my imagination.

Without hesitation, I squeezed my eyes shut to displace any negative thoughts, but the priest was growing out of patience, and he asked again.

"Celine Bentley, do you take Adrian Scott as your lawfully wedded husband in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

"I do." I answered wittingly without delay.

Once we were done with the exchange of vows, Adrian could barely slip the ring onto my finger with his trembling hands.

The walls of the building echoed with applause from the guests as I lowered myself for Adrian to give me a soft kiss on the cheek.

"I'm sorry, babe. I know that I've failed woefully in giving you the type of wedding that you deserve," Adrian said as we took our ride back to the condo I had furnished with dreams of laughter and children.

No more honeymoon in London as planned.

The first night of our marriage, Adrian refused to let me sleep beside him.

"I don't need your pity," he muttered, turning his face to the wall.

Why? I feel bad, but I understand his reactions. I know it's normal for a person with a disability to be aggressive whenever they feel like someone is keeping an eye of pity on them.

"It's not a pity, Adrian. Come on, this is our wedding night! Where do you expect me to sleep if not in this room?" I whispered softly but he didn't respond.

Weeks passed. I bathed him, fed him, and took him to every therapy appointment and even forced a smile on my face when my heart ached, but Adrian's reaction kept getting worse with each passing day.

“Maybe Nora is right.

I'm only wasting my youth on a stubborn husband that'll never see any good in me, instead of popping a glass of champagne in Paris.” I thought to myself.

I can count the number of times Adrian and I talked and laughed over our discussions.

Just a few months into marriage, and I was gradually turning into a shadow of myself, but one thing I thank God for is that he's gradually beginning to move his toes, which means there's hope of me getting my jovial man once he's healed.

"I see–you talk to Nora a lot now," he said coldly after Nora called to ask if we got home safely after meeting at the hospital.

"Yeah, she's worried about you," I said with a smile.

"Scoff!" Andrian scoffed.

"She has always had a problem with me; maybe she's hoping I disappear so she can give you to one of her brothers."

"Come on, Adrian. It hasn't gotten to that!" I shoved his negative thoughts off with a kind smile.

That night, I cried silently in the bathroom. When would Adrian ever get all this sudden coldness off his chest and love me as his wife?

Exactly one year into our marriage, I opened the front door following a knock, and I found Nora, holding a bottle of champagne.

"I thought we could celebrate your first anniversary," Nora said with a smile.

"Awwww, thanks girlfriend. That's so sweet of you." I answered and stepped aside for her to enter.

"Where's Adrian? Hope he's getting better?" She asked, her eyes scanning the corners of the room.

"I think he's out in the garden. His therapy really went well today, because he moved his toes!"

"Wow! I'm happy for you, Celine." She said flatly as we sat on the couch while she poured the drink into the glasses.

"You're doing everything for this man, Celine." She said after taking a few sips.

"What about you, Cel..."

"I'm fine. He's my husband." I interrupted.

"Yeah, but—have you ever stopped to ask yourself if Adrian really deserves this from you? Trust me, there's a lot about this guy that he's not telling you," Nora continued.

I raised my brows in a frown.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Nora leaned in.

"Adrian can walk without a wheelchair, Celine. And yesterday—I saw him with another woman."

I froze.

"Stop it with all the lies, Nora. I know you hate Adrian, so please just stop!" I roared.

Nora smirked and stood up abruptly, grabbing her bag to leave.

"You think I want to ruin your marriage? I'm only protecting you, Celine."

"Then stop! I never asked for your protection! Adrian is going through hell; and what he needs now is support, not some cooked-up false allegations!" I roared angrily.

But that night, my eyes failed to catch some sleep.

My mind flipped back to the many times I've eavesdropped on him having late-night calls that I can't hear.

I remembered him telling someone on the phone that 'this should remain a secret.'

Since that day, I kept wondering what that secret could be, but I never got the chance to uncover the secret.

Without hesitation, I gently sneaked into Adrian's room while he was fast asleep and snoring.

I picked up the phone from the nightstand, but it was locked.

Like, seriously? My brows furrowed.

All through our courtship, Adrian has never locked his phone; rather, I was the one who was not concerned with checking through a man's phone.

Later, while brushing my teeth in the morning, I stared at my reflection in the mirror and whispered to myself, "What if Nora is telling the truth?"

For weeks now, Adrian has refused me to go with him to the therapy sessions.

He insisted that only the driver should take him because I've been stressed lately.

"Hmmm, you think you're smart, Adrian? I'll definitely get you!" I mumbled as I bathed and dressed him up. He should just pray I don't find out about his cheating scandals, because if I do, he'll wish he never regained his limbs and remained crippled for the rest of his life.

As soon as he drove out that evening for the usual therapy session, I grabbed my phone to place a call across the hospital and the hotel where Nora claimed to have seen him.